As the World Series winds down, go into extra innings with Boog City 137: The Baseball Issue.
Now showing @ Change Seven Magazine in honor of Opening Day: "The Tragedy of Being Born Right-Handed"
My short story was selected as a semifinalist for Cobalt Review's 2017 Earl Weaver Baseball Writing Prize.
On the small couch lounged a man in a long black robe, tattered at the hems. His black, greasy hair hung down over his eyes and ears like individual strands on a dirty mop, and his hands and face were spotted with liver marks that clashed with the sickening whiteness of his skin.
Now showing @ Change Seven Magazine: "The Tragedy of Being Born Right-Handed"
Before you get all worked up over my not-so-politically-correct decision to sing the praises of unsportsmanlike conduct in the game of baseball, please spare me the tears. I’m not here to endorse fighting, or cursing, or even umpire bashing. I’m not here to teach you how to kick dirt on someone’s shoes. I’m simply not […]
This past Saturday morning, after tossing and turning for the better part of two hours, I decided to roll out of bed with the roosters. What I realized was, short of counting the moths as they fluttered in front of my porch light, there’s not a whole lot to do when you’re up at the […]
There are sports video games out there right now that are, in a word, unbelievable. You can page through complex football playbooks, create new franchises, or swing a live bat against live pitching. Some systems go so far as to mimic your actual body movements and translate them into gameplay. It’s clear things have come […]
Many will tell you that a record is the highest personal honor that can be obtained by any athlete. Others contend records set new standards and push athletes to reach higher, to run faster, and to push harder. As spectators, we relish in seeing these feats accomplished, and we thrive on seeing them broken a … Continue reading Some Pro Records Will Never Be Broken
Call me a loser. Call me a dork; a bookworm; a numbers cruncher. Whatever. I like to collect baseball cards and I’m not ashamed to admit it. When I was a young lad playing games of D&D in Mom’s basement in Cherry Hill with the neighborhood allergy cases and exchange students, I somehow developed a […]